


Plausible Deniability

by sugargaze



Category: Tiny Meat Gang (Band)
Genre: Body Dysmorphia, Eating Disorders, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Intervention, Self-Destruction, Self-Reflection, Substance Abuse, nobody fucks in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-07-28 11:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20063191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugargaze/pseuds/sugargaze
Summary: Cody brings a lot of baggage home to Calgary.





	1. The Thing

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a medical doctor. My intent is not to diagnose or speculate on the health of public figures. This is a work of fiction.  
Please refrain from doing anything that would put this on Cody's radar.

Cody leaned his head against the window and watched the frosted trees go by. They were moving at a maddeningly slow pace and the only thing keeping him sane was the rum and coke he'd just slammed impairing his ability to feel rage. His Uber was driving like he had both never been in control of a car and never seen snow before, two things that Cody could believe if the man wasn't working in rural Calgary in the height of winter.

"You home to visit your parents?" the man inquired cheerfully.

Cody heard him faintly but continued to look out the window, enjoying the plausible deniability of the music in his air pods being too loud.

After what felt like hours the car finally came to a stop. Cody opened the door and grabbed his carry-on. 

"Thanks, man... and uh, Happy Holidays?" 

Cody cringed as he stepped out of the car and realized it came out as a question.

The driver chuckled kindly in response.

"You too, bud. Take care."

Cody carefully trudged up the walkway to his parents' home. It looked like it had been shoveled already that day but had endured several hours of snowfall since. He knew Calgary would be cold and wet but refused to wear the kind of shoes that actually protected you when departing LAX. He always ran into someone he knew and couldn't stomach the roasting.

He found the door unlocked and pushed it open.

"Hello?"

The house was quiet. He set his bag down and removed his shoes.

"Mom? Dad? Helen? Greg?" 

He walked into the kitchen where he found a note.

_cody -_

_welcome home!!! out on a run before the blizzard gets here. help yourself to anything in the fridge. see you soon._

_\- mom + dad_

Cody smiled. He grabbed his bag and took it to his room, comforted by the fact that those four walls seemed to exist outside of the passing of time. He stood there, hands on his hips, trying to figure out what to do with himself before he checked his phone: _No Service_.

He sighed and unzipped his bag. He figured he might as well go for a run himself since there was nothing else to do and his feet were already cold and wet. Running buzzed probably wasn't his smartest idea, but it didn't feel like his worst one either.

Cody pulled on two pairs of thermal leggings as fast as he could. The heat was running but the house was still arrestingly cold. He pulled his denim jacket off and replaced it with a comically inflated neon orange down jacket.

He looked at himself in the mirror.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he whispered.

He walked back to the front door. He slid on his damp shoes and picked some mittens, goggles, and a neck gaiter from the basket his parents kept by the door. Probably the biggest perk of being the child of a famous athlete was always having access to the freshest active gear.

Cody stepped outside once he felt adequately covered head to toe. He felt hesitation and anxiety at the idea of leaving the door unlocked and had to remind himself that LA was a very different world from where he was now.

Cody walked briskly on the road for almost a mile, careful to give his legs time to warm up. The neighborhood quickly transitioned to forests instead of development and the beauty of the landscape shook him just like it did every time he'd come home since leaving.

Cody began to jog. He had no course planned, no mile time to hit. He just wanted to move forward. His goggles fogged up from the trapped body heat hitting the cold air but he didn't fix them. The compression and insulation of his clothes combined with the drone of his feet hitting the pavement created a strange hypnotic beat. He realized only after miles had passed that he'd forgotten to turn music on but he didn't need it now.

Cody came across a clearing in the trees that exposed a river that he'd forgotten about. He slowed down to a walk before stopping completely and removing his goggles. The scene was breathtaking.

Snowfall had picked up somewhat but light was still breaking through, and the sun reflected softly off the surface of the frozen water as if the river was being illuminated from below the ice. Cody swore he could see evidence of a current still rushing underneath but he wasn't sure it was possible at these temperatures. He tried to take a picture for posterity (or Kelsey), but between the snow and the odd light hardly anything could be captured.

Cody took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He pulled his gaiter down and took his hat off, giving his skin a few moments to feel the cold wind and the wet sting of snow as it melted on his skin. He'd missed this weather, harsh as it may be.

He took the opportunity to check his watch, hoping the GPS tracker had worked.

_4.7 miles_

A surge of accomplishment and anticipation washed over Cody. He smiled at the thought of being able to tell his dad that he'd done a cool 10 miles, and the prospect of being able to eat a meal with no guilt was emerging as an actual possibility. 

Cody geared back up and began to walk again in the direction he came, taking advantage of the trodden path he'd made in the road that would allow his shoes to have more grip. His head felt strange as he walked, almost as though it was sloshy inside like the dirty snow he saw on the curb, but he pushed forward and chalked it up to temperature as he picked up the pace again. Cody found himself less mesmerized by his footfalls now and turned some music on to keep his mind occupied. 

About a mile into the trek back he felt his legs suddenly get heavier. Cody had felt this before and assumed he was just hitting the wall. It was a little early for him at such moderate mileage, but he knew the temperature and moderate altitude change could do strange things to the body. Cody continued to move forward, being deliberate in his strides now to be sure that his leaden legs were picking up. 

Around the two mile mark a strange sensation fluttered down Cody's spine and it brought him to a stumbling halt. Cody reached around and felt his neck and back the best he could over his layers. It felt almost like someone had poured water on his skin. He resumed walking to push towards home and told himself he just needed a second to breathe. 

Eventually Cody felt centered again and picked up the pace. His legs still felt like they were being filled with concrete but he felt determined and capable of making it home. The trees blurred and the road curved the way it had on his drive into town until he began to see signs of development again. He couldn't be more than a mile out now.

Cody was thinking of everything he wanted to tell his parents when a wave of nausea hit him and slowed his pace to floppy shuffle.

"Ugh..." Cody muttered.

He swayed with a loss of coordination and sidestepped over the curb into a mix of fresh and shoveled snow. He soon doubled over and fell to his knees, bracing himself on his palms so he was on all-fours. 

He maintained this position for several minutes, breathing in and out forcefully with his eyes closed, willing himself to vomit so he could feel better and move on.

The sloshy feeling in his head returned and this time it brought an overwhelming warmth to his face and body. He ripped off his gear and used his bare hands to grab handfuls of snow off the ground before rubbing it gently on his face. Seized with frustration and the continued feeling of overbearing heat, Cody ripped off his jacket and laid his entire body face-down in the snow. He finally felt relief on his skin and savored the feeling even as he felt the snow turn to water and saturate his clothes. He laid there, slowly going numb and becoming disoriented.

"O h m y g o d!"

"C o d y?!" 

Thinking he'd heard his name being called plucked a string of fear in Cody's chest and sent alarm bells ringing in his head. 

He opened his eyes and tried to push himself up, confused by his muscles' weakness.

"Oh Jesus, I thought you were dead," he heard a woman say with relief.

Cody looked sideways and saw his mom (Helen) and dad (Greg) fully bundled up and crouched down next to him. He thought he was hallucinating before, but they were really there.

"What happened? Were you attacked?"

Cody shook his head, suddenly aware of just how wet he was.

"Cody, tell us. What happened? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

Cody shook his head again and took his dad's assistance in getting up as his mom collected his things.

"You're soaking wet, bud. What... what were you doing in the snow?"

Cody looked around and tried to brush some of the debris off of his leggings and thermal pullover.

"I... I don't know? I'm pretty sure I started feeling sick and then I got hot so I took all my shit off," he explained nonchalantly.

Helen shook her head, her eyes watering from the cold and concern with her goggles removed.

"I'm going to take you to a hospital," she said sternly.

"Oh, come on. I'm not going to the hospital." Cody grabbed his jacket and gear from his mom and put them back on, less for his own comfort and more for hers.

"Cody," his dad said firmly. "We just found you face down in the snow on the side of the road with no protection on in -10 degrees. You could have easily died. You're honestly still in danger of developing hypothermia."

Cody was grateful that he had his gear on again so they couldn't see his facial expression.

"I'm fine, guys. I just felt sick for a second. I felt super warm and I needed to cool off and I feel better now. It's not a big deal. I was in the process of getting myself up before you came along anyway."

Cody started to walk forward towards the house. Helen threw her hands up in the air and widened her eyes at Greg, willing him to do something.

Greg shrugged and brought his arms up to match her. 

"He's an adult!" he whispered. "I told you before when we were discussing _the thing_ that we can't make him do anything that he doesn't want to do."

The wind had picked up just in the time since they'd found Cody and he had already walked out of earshot. Greg and Helen jogged to bookend Cody just in case he fell ill again, and the three of them walked home in total silence.


	2. The Vibe is Off

Cody walked through the door and headed straight for the shower. He turned the water to a temperature just warmer than his body. He'd heard enough hypothermia horror stories to know it was worth it to warm up slowly if you have any doubt.

He stepped under the stream and sighed in relief. His body felt like it was a full spectrum of temperatures and he imagined how strange it would look under heat imaging. The colder bits ached as they were warmed by the water, and the warmer ones couldn't detect a variation in temperature at all. He rubbed gently on his face, his nose feeling raw almost like he had sunburn.

He slowly adjusted the water to be just a couple degrees warmer, and a couple more, and a couple more, gradually over time until he felt like he'd reached a normal shower heat. He washed his hair and scrubbed his face, trying not to think about all the filth he'd had near his mouth and eyes. He pulled his contacts out and let them float down the drain.

He heard a knock at the door.

"Come in." 

The door swung open. "Hey, bud," he heard his dad say warmly. "I brought you a nice hot towel and some thermals and a hoodie. I didn't want to invade your privacy by going through your stuff but I didn't want your system to get a shock of cold from heading to your room in a towel. You can borrow these, okay?"

Cody felt the weight of guilt drop down from his throat to his chest to his stomach. There was a part of him that always feared his parents had a goodness and generosity that he could never return.

"Oh, uh... thanks, dad. You didn't have to do that. I'm sure I'd be okay. I'm not even sure I'll fit in your clothes."

Greg closed his eyes and shook his head. Cody couldn't see it.

"They'll fit, Codes. Just... try 'em and humor me, eh?" 

Greg closed the door behind him before Cody could respond.

Cody finally finished warming up and showering. He stepped out of the basin and was immediately grateful at the feeling of the warm towel his dad had left. He brought it to his face and inhaled. He felt comforted by the dry heat and the scent of the detergent his mom had always used that he could never find in the states.

He dried himself off, devolving into shivers even in the steamy warmth of the bathroom, and rushed to pull the thermals on. They fit comfortably, and Cody found himself conjuring reasons for how this could be as he shuffled to his room to grab his glasses. 

En route he overheard his parents talking in harsh whispers in the kitchen and he found himself tiptoeing by in order to eavesdrop like he had as a kid. He could only discern random bits of what they were saying.

"Today... American... fucking hell... the cost... today... Christmas... schedule... Noel... no... maybe... no... today... Kelsey... Noel... text him... are you sure?"

They abruptly stopped their discussion. Cody slunk off, racking his brain to try and piece together what he'd heard but coming up with nothing. 

He grabbed his glasses from his room and came into the kitchen where he was greeted with too-big smiles.

"I told you they'd fit, bud," his dad said, embracing him. His mom wedged in for a hug next.

Cody ran his hands through his still-wet hair. "Guys, I'm... I'm really sorry about... I know that must have freaked you out. That was fucked up. I... you know, I pushed myself too hard, I think. I had a rum & coke on the plane, I didn't drink any water, I was up early this morning for the flight..."

They were both nodding. Cody waited for them to chastise him for being a dumbass, but it didn't come.

"Well, you know, you're okay and that's what matters, right?" 

Helen rubbed his arm and turned back to the produce she was chopping. Cody looked at Greg to better understand her reaction and he was just smiling and leaning against the counter. Cody crossed his arms across his chest in attempt to protect himself from the feeling that he was 16 again.

"Are...you guys good? Are you... I feel like... not to sound LA as shit, but the vibe is a little weird? I feel like you're mad and holding back." 

Helen didn't turn around and Greg busied himself filling up a comically large water bottle with ice and an electrolyte mix. He handed it to Cody.

"We're fine, Cody. There's no reason for us to be mad. We were just worried about you."

Greg looked at Cody and then looked at Helen's back and back at Cody.

"Uh, why don't you... come sit on the couch and tell me more about the festivals you just did?"

Greg walked over and sat on the couch, patting the seat next to him. 

"Come on. Relax. Hydrate. You've had a crazy day."

\- - -

The rest of the evening unfolded without event. Greg seemed genuinely present and enraptured by Cody's stories of being on stage, and Helen listened from the kitchen, hitting her cues for laughs and motherly praise. They opted to bypass the dinner table and everyone sat on the couch with their bowls of quinoa salad to listen to Cody's updates on the cast of characters that came in and out of his life. 

Just before 9 they both stood up and took their bowls to the kitchen.

"We're gonna hit the sack, bud. You need anything before we start snoring?" 

Cody looked at his watch and raised his eyebrows. "You guys go to bed at 9 now? Jesus, I thought I was bad." He thought about their question for a second. "No, I'm... I'm good as long as the Wifi password is still the same."

They walked over and each gave Cody a kiss on the top of his head just like they did when he was a kid, causing Cody to grin and shake his head in embarrassment.

"Still the same, kiddo. Some things never have to change. Goodnight, bud."

"''night, Codes. Hope you sleep well."

Cody sat in silence with his empty bowl after he heard the door to his parents bedroom close. He spaced out for an unknown amount of time, just thinking about the day, replaying the fragments of his parents' conversation that he'd recorded in his brain.

His watch vibrated and lit up, ejecting him from his trance. He had a text from Noel. 

_Call me._


	3. Marcus

Cody sprawled out on his bed and dialed Noel. The familiarity of the position and environment created a bittersweet nostalgia.

Noel picked up on the first ring.

"Cody?"

"Hey man, got your text. What's up?"

Noel sighed. "I heard you had kind of a crazy day, man."

Cody froze. "Uh... I did, sort of... how do you know that?"

"Oh, uh... your mom told me, actually."

"Wait, what? My mom told you? How? When? That shit happened like 5 hours ago. I haven't even told Kelsey yet."

Cody felt another brick of guilt stack on top of all the others at the realization that he hadn't talked to Kelsey all day.

"Your mom and I text, dude."

"You text with my mom? Since when?"

"For a while now, man. I mean, think about it. Your dad goes on these long, dangerous treks... and anything could happen, at any time. You never know. I could be there for her."

Cody laughed. "Jesus, okay... Just so we're clear, you're joking about my dad dying and you replacing him?"

"...I've always wanted a son, Cody."

"Ew, okay, all right, that's enough of that. I'm sure Aleena would love that bit."

"Joke is on you, brother. Aleena's right here and... I'll be honest... she seems into it."

Cody heard Aleena yell something in outrage in the background and Noel cackled.

A silence occupied the phone line for too long to be comfortable.

"So is that it?" Cody pressed. "You were calling me to flex about the fact that you text my mom?"

"Uh, actually... shit, hold on. Let me go in my office. I didn't expect you to actually hit me back so quickly."

Cody heard the door shut behind Noel.

"So um... I... I have to send you something. I have to send you something and you need to watch it tonight and I'm not even supposed to be talking to you right now, but I didn't trust that you would actually download this weird mystery file during the holidays if I didn't give you a heads-up."

"I don't... Noel, please don't send me whatever the 2019 version of '2 Girls 1 Cup' is while I'm in my childhood bedroom. This place has seen enough."

Noel chuckled softly. "If I know you, brother, and I'm pretty sure I do, you're going to wish I was sending you some shit like that."

Cody shook his head as he thought about what Noel was saying.

"Okay, dude. Whatever it is, just send it. I'm not really sure what you're talking about so just... fucking send it. I don't understand what this could be since it can't be work related."

Noel sighed. "Okay, all right. I'm sending it now. Just... try not to be mad, okay?"

"...oh no. Why would I be mad?" Cody asked.

"I... I just sent it, okay. It's a big file so it might take a little bit to leave my outbox but, you know... whatever your reaction is, just... sleep on it and we can talk in the morning."

Cody was even more confused now. "I... yeah, okay, dude. I'll watch it and... apparently I'll call you in the morning."

"Sounds good, man. g'night."

Noel disconnected the phone and Cody threw it aside.

Cody refreshed his inbox and an email from Noel with an attachment popped up.

_Cody.mp4 4.2 GB_

"4 gigs? Is this a fucking Suki cut? How do you even send a file this big on gmail?"

Cody's self-loathing overflowed as he realized he'd become A Guy Who Talks to Himself.

He started the video.

_Hey, Cody. It's Marcus, but you know that already 'cause you can see me since this is a video... Um... Noel reached out to me today and he asked me to make this clip for you and so I'm doing it. It just feels like a no-brainer._

_Um... I guess I just want to start by saying that I value you a lot, man. I... I value your friendship in a lot of ways. You know, we hang out and talk shit and we surf and whatever, but you've also come through for me in ways that... I don't know, you've just kind of always been there for me, supporting me since we met, and, you know, you're a good guy. I know you think of yourself as an asshole, but you're really not. Anyone who knows you knows that you're not, and I feel like I know you pretty well, so... you can trust me or whatever. I don't know if that made sense._

_Anyway, um... If I'm honest, I was relieved when Noel called me today. I was relieved because... and I think I speak for other people when I say this too, but... I'm worried about you, man. I feel like... I feel like your productivity has kind of shielded you from- from people seeing how much you're struggling, but... maybe it's because I also see the behind the scenes, but it's definitely there, man. And I don't know if you see it, but I definitely see it, and that's the point of this, right? That's the point of these videos? [shakes his head]_

_I just... I don't know. I want you to like yourself, man. I want you to like yourself as much as other people like you. That probably sounds super lame but I mean it. I really do. You deserve it. You're nice and you're smart and you're handsome and you're funny... Not as much as me, of course, but you know, you get by. [laughs] No, but seriously, I... I wish I knew what the perfect thing to say was. [Marcus raps on the table with his knuckles] Kinda wish I'd written this out, maybe a script or something._

_But basically, I hope you agree that it's time and I hope you know that it doesn't matter how long it takes or what it takes or where it takes you, everyone will be here for you. [Marcus stands up and picks up a surfboard that's leaning against the wall] I'll be here with a surfboard with your name on it. I mean, this- this one doesn't have your name on it, literally, I was thinking more figuratively, but I can get it added if that's something you're into... I guess that would look pretty sick, right? Just C-O-D-Y in big letters, maybe some Comic Sans? I can do that for you, for sure. Give me an excuse to Flex some of that Cameo money. [Marcus puts the surf board back and sits down, sighing]_

_I don't know how to end this, so... I love you, man and... I hope you can see that you need help._

The video abruptly cut to black and Cody hit pause. He cradled his head in his hands as he looked at the status bar of the video. This was only 1/4 of it.

Noel had sent him a fucking intervention compilation.


	4. Miscalculations

Cody collapsed backwards onto his bed. He spread his arms out on either side of himself as his mind struggled to process what he'd just seen. For a moment he fixated on traces of sticky tack still on his ceiling and remembered that simple joy he felt as a kid, of looking up and seeing glow-in-the-dark stars before he drifted to sleep every night. Something about that memory just made him feel worse and he pressed his palms onto his eyes.

.Cody quickly righted himself from his bed and slipped out of his room. He carefully making his way to the kitchen where he stood in front of the fridge and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He could hear the whistling of the blizzard outside even through the insulation of the house and the hum of appliances. 

Using his fingertips to break the seal gradually and avoid the tell-tale sound, Cody near-silently opened the door to his parents fridge. He stood there basking in the yellow light for a moment as he scanned the immaculately organized contents.

Leftover quinoa salad. Chicken breast. Cottage cheese. Celery. Sweet potatoes. Eggs. Peppers. Dates. Almond milk. Goat milk. Pickles. Beer. Wine.

_Beer_.

Cody extracted the three beers out of the door one at a time with surgical precision, careful not to clink them together and give himself away. He carefully arranged the beers in one hand and used the other to ease the fridge door closed without a sound. He then took care to open a drawer and grab a bottle opener without jostling any other utensils. Targets having been acquired, Cody then padded silently back to his room and locked the door before returning to his bed. He placed the beers gingerly on his side table and sat on his bed again, cracking open a beer in the second it took his MacBook to wake from sleep.

Cody stared at the screen. He had paused the video at what he assumed was an empty black interval Noel had spliced in between clips. Cody nursed his beer as he tried to build up the nerve to press play. He enjoyed the feeling of the cold hoppy beverage becoming a source of warmth and fullness as it traveled to his belly.

He drained the first and opened the second, telling himself he'd be ready to press play after this gulp... no, after this one... no, after this one.

Soon the second bottle was done and he opened the third. Cody gave up all pretense now and just drained it down his throat as fast as he could. He placed the empty bottle on his side table with the others as he burped gracelessly and tried to remember the calorie count for that particular brand of beer. 

He looked at the screen of his laptop again and realized the courage he had tried to summon never arrived; in fact, he actually felt guiltier, weaker, and like even more of a coward than he did before. He slammed his laptop shut and fought a childish urge to kick it off the bed.

END

**Author's Note**

I started writing this fic in the days leading up to being admitted to an intensive treatment program. I was terrified, I was at a low point in my life within a lifetime defined by low points, and only my innermost circle and an incredibly <strike>horny</strike> kind discord server was privy to the knowledge that I was seeking treatment. I was hopeful, sure, but also incredibly bitter at the realization of everything I'd lost to being so sick for so long. 

There are many points in my life where an intervention and a higher level of care should have happened, but it was prevented by financial restraints, ignorance, or feelings of helplessness in those around me. It probably sounds lame, but this fic started as a sort of wish fulfillment story even though this story isn't exactly mine. I've struggled with eating disorders and substance abuse, sure, but those aren't even what I'm in treatment for right now; I just thought they would be easier to talk about and more in keeping with Cody's actual public persona than describing him wanting to die all the time. 

I say all this to explain why this fic was written in the first place, but also to help explain (part of) why it's going to end here without really ending. This fic is one that probably should have lived and died on my hard drive, but I'm going to keep what's been completed of it up on ao3 because it seems like some people actually connected with it. In hindsight, the concept of having to nail several people's characterization well enough to describe them in a video and the way they would act in an intervention for Cody was overly ambitious and a weird call for someone like me who really only fucks with Marcus outside of the boys and their partners. I actually made a lot of emotional miscalculations with this whole concept but really, and most importantly and most selfishly, what I'm trying to articulate is that this fic doesn't serve me anymore and is not a healthy use of my time. It's not a net-positive the way my other fics are. It doesn't inspire me when I think about it, and I associate it with being in an even worse place mentally, so I'm letting it go.

I thought this note might be preferable to just taking the fic down or never updating it, but I could be wrong, and feel free to let me know. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and comment on this or anything else I've written. Your responses really do mean a lot.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr [here](https://sodaplease.tumblr.com/)


End file.
